Wish Not, Want Not
by caroandlyn
Summary: [When Giotto had told his parents he wanted a younger sibling for Christmas, he didn't mean the Christmas ten years later...!] :: KHR AU featuring big bro!Giotto and little bro!Tsuna, and all the shenanigans that (inevitably) ensue. Giotto just wants his life to be normal again
1. Prologue

**a.n.** i love giotto a little too much for it to be healthy...

also, nana is like my spirit animal lol

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 **Wish Not  
** _Want Not_

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Prologue

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Sometimes, Giotto wondered if his parents were a little slow on the uptake.

Okay, so maybe slow wasn't the best word for it. Sluggish might be better. Sedate. Unhurried. It didn't really matter; none of them could describe Giotto's frustration as he tried to take in what exactly was going on.

When he had told his parents he wanted a younger sibling for Christmas, he didn't mean the Christmas _ten years later_!

* * *

But here he was anyway, standing in front of his front door, unable to tear his eyes off the sleeping baby that rested in the crook of Nana's arms. It couldn't have been older than a couple of months, though it was obvious that it was far from a newborn. Tufts of fluffy-looking brown hair grew in a wild mess all over its head, a few shades darker than Giotto's own golden locks.

"Isn't he cute?" Nana cooed, looking down at it— _him_ , Giotto mentally corrected—with a loving expression. "Your _p_ _apa_ and I wanted to keep it a surprise!"

"Mom," Giotto said, trying to keep his tone even and failing. He was beginning to hyperventilate, something he hadn't done in ten years and wanted to keep that way. "That's not something you keep a secret."

Nana ignored him. "We know that you've always wanted a little brother," she continued, "but your _p_ _apa_ is always so busy, so we've never had a chance to make him." Giotto was now old enough to know how babies were made, so the implications of her words finally began to sink in. "But then, your _papa_ finally got a few days off, and then came along Tsu-kun!"

"You named him Tsukkun?" Giotto said, unable to keep an expression of horror off his face. And here he had thought _Ieyasu_ was a bad name; all of his classmates had made fun of him in elementary school, singing _tanuki, tanuki, Ieyasu the tanuki_ during the recesses. It had been partly because of that that he had finally changed his name to Giotto, per G's suggestion, and never looked back on that black part of his history. Tsukkun was infinitely worse than anything Giotto had ever heard—it sounded like a name a child would give to a fish they won from Tanabata or some other frivolous pet.

Nana laughed. "Oh, no, his name Tsunayoshi," she said, and Giotto breathed a small sigh of relief. Tsunayoshi was an extraordinarily traditional name, but it didn't carry around as much notoriety as Ieyasu, or as much ridiculousness as _Tsukkun_. The worst somebody could call his younger brother was a dog, but at least being a dog was much better than being a tanuki.

"Tsunayoshi, huh?" Giotto asked himself, staring at his brother's tiny face. He looked a lot like Giotto already; both of them took mostly after their mother in features, only it was evident that Giotto alone had inherited their father's Italian colouring.

"Your _papa_ thought it was a very lucky name," Nana nodded sagely. "He'll be a very smart boy when he grows up, just like his older brother." She smiled at him, freeing one arm to cup Giotto's cheek. "Both your _papa_ and I are very proud of you right now, Ieyasu."

Giotto couldn't help but smile back. His mother, for all her obliviousness, did try her best for him when he was growing up, and he supposed he owed it to her that he was here now, living in one of the most expensive areas in developing Tokyo.

The moment was ruined when Nana suddenly glanced at the clock that hung over the hallway across from the door. "Oh, would you look at the time! Your _papa_ and I are going on a five-year cruise starting today. He won the tickets from a raffle at his work yesterday. It was very exciting."

"Five years...?" Giotto muttered, furrowing his eyebrows. Never mind how expensive it must have been to buy the tickets for a trip like that, what about his little brother? He was still an infant, for heaven's sake! They weren't supposed to spend long times on ships! "What about Tsunayoshi?"

His mother smiled, as dense as ever. "Oh, did I forget to mention it? He'll be staying with you from now on, of course." She offered Tsunayoshi to Giotto, and Giotto, blanking out, held his hands out reflexively. "I'm sure you'll be a wonderful big brother."

Giotto's resounding " _WHAT!?"_ echoed throughout the building a few minutes later.

Tsunayoshi, the lucky thing he was, stayed asleep.

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notes

Ieyasu (家康) and Tsunayoshi (綱吉) were the names of two famous Japanese shogunates of the Tokugawa (徳川) family. Ieyasu was known for his resemblance to a badger and/or tanuki in his later years, especially due to his large potbelly and chubby cheeks. Tsunayoshi was known as the 'dog shogun' because he established a great deal of animal protection laws during his rule, particularly for dogs.


	2. I

**a.n.** wow! thanks for all the comments and follows~

also, for some reason i always imagine g following after giotto obediently like a lost duckling lol

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I

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"G," began Giotto, careful to keep his voice low as he crouched in the deepest recesses of his storage closet. "G, I need your help. _Immediately_."

" _Wharr ish id_?" mumbled G from the other side of the line, his mind obviously still muddled with sleep. Giotto remembered his best friend mentioning about working on some important ground-shaking breakthrough regarding the composition of whatchamacallit science stuff, and felt slightly guilty for obviously intruding on G's already lacking sleep schedule, before being reminded of the precarious situation he was in himself.

"I have a kid in my apartment," confessed Giotto.

There was a moment of stunned silence, before G exploded with a loud: " _HUH_ _?!"_ Giotto winced, trying to muffle the sound with the fabric of his shirt, although G's vocal capability was perhaps almost on par with Knuckle's. The yell somehow managed to rattle the walls, and somewhere downstairs one of his neighbors shouted a few uncomplimentary things at him.

" _Shh_ , _Tsunayoshi's still asleep_!" he hissed, and immediately G quieted. "G, listen, it's my baby brother that somehow my parents were never bothered enough to tell me about. Then they went off gallivanting on a cruise ship and left him with me to take care of in the meanwhile."

"How long's the trip going to be for?" G asked, sounding significantly more awake; there was the sound of the coffee machine in the background, which meant that G wasn't planning to go back to sleep any time soon. "If you need to, you can drop him off at my house for a couple of days. I'm sure Mom and Bianchi won't mind, and god knows Hayato needs the company."

He was talking about his younger half-brother, who, though only at the tender age of eight months, was starting to emerge as an antisocial recluse by the likes of Alaude. Although, thankfully, Hayato didn't seem to possess the same kind of homicidal tendencies that so characterized the Hibari family.

"Five years," Giotto said.

"I'll be over in twenty minutes," said G, and promptly hung up.

* * *

Tsunayoshi was _still_ miraculously (how long did infants sleep, anyway? Weren't they supposed to wake up every five minutes and make the lives of their parents absolutely miserable?) asleep when the doorbell rang, a good five minutes earlier than announced. Giotto opened the door only to be greeted by a frazzled-looking G, with a grumpy Hayato and bemused Bianchi in tow.

"She forcibly made me bring her along," G said moodily in explanation, what looked to be scratch marks visible on his right cheek. Bianchi giggled and smirked at Giotto, wagging the fingers of the hand that wasn't holding Hayato playfully, showing off crimson red nail polish that looked suspiciously like blood.

Giotto forcibly resisted a shudder. No wonder Hayato turned out as he did; if he had an older sister like Bianchi, he'd want nothing to do with humanity ever again too.

"Come in, then," said Giotto, suddenly remembering his manners, and moved aside to let the three siblings in. Bianchi, in a rare showmanship of Japanese customs, kicked off both of her stilettos on the doorstep, her toenails painted the same shocking red color as her fingernails. "How's Lavina-san?"

"Mother's doing fine," said Bianchi suavely, boldly stepping past Giotto and into the apartment. She glanced around the room, spotting the prone form of Tsunayoshi sprawled out on the couch in his blue jumper with the aptitude of a hawk. "Oh! This must be the kid brother G was talking about. He's a cute little thing, isn't he?"

"Now that you've seen him, can you leave?" G muttered under his breath.

Bianchi glanced back, tucking a strand of loose pink hair behind her ear. Snake-shaped earrings glinted ominously in the harsher interior lighting of the apartment. "What was that, G?"

"Nothing," G said meekly.

"I thought so," Bianchi drawled. She moved closer to the sleeping Tsunayoshi, Hayato still squirming in her arms. "Giotto, how old is he?"

"I don't know," Giotto said, thinking back to his mother's words. "Mom said that he was apparently supposed to be my Christmas present—" ( _"Bit too late for that," G snarked_ ) "—but I know that Dad hasn't gotten any time off work since May of last year, so he can't be any older than eight or so months."

Bianchi made a face at that. "That means he's still breastfeeding," she said. She glanced over Giotto critically, her gaze lingering over his chest area. He resisted the urge to cross his arms. "Since you clearly lack that ability, I suppose we'll have to start off with breast formula and slowly wean him to solids. Do you know how Nana-san's been feeding him?"

Giotto blinked slowly, once, twice.

"That's a no, then," said Bianchi dismissively. "Well, you're in luck that somebody who actually _understands_ these sort of things is here to help, instead of a _moron who tried to rush over when he has a flight first thing in the morning to Vienna tomorrow and doesn't have any idea of what he's doing_." She said this in a matter-of-fact tone, adjusting Hayato's position in her arms.

"Hey—"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did that _offend you_?" Bianchi said mockingly, brandishing her right fingers towards G like claws. She shook her head, snorting. "Giotto, tell this fool he was supposed to be in bed _an hour ago_."

G recoiled indignantly. "Giotto asked me for help!"

Bianchi turned to Giotto, glaring at him expectantly. She raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth turned down.

"Okay, um, thanks for the help, G," Giotto said, trying not to look at Bianchi, "but I think your sister's right. You need the sleep for your, uh, science thing, and she does have actual experience in this—"

Every word seemed to cut deeper into G's already fragile ego. His knees shook, like he would collapse any moment.

Bianchi's glare seemed to multiply twofold.

"Uh, you're still very important to me!" Giotto said hurriedly. (He didn't want to earn Bianchi's wrath, not when she could easily get access to his food sources through G. He liked living, thank you very much). Instantly, G's head popped up, looking at him like an expectant puppy. "But sleep comes first." He tried to make his tone sterner. "You can stay at my place for the night. I have an extra futon in the closet."

G's expression was uncertain for a few moments, before finally shaking his head. "I'll head back home, then," he said. "I can't afford to miss the Vienna conference. And you seem to be in..." he stilled, as if what he said next pained him,"...very good hands for the time being."

"I'm glad you understand," Bianchi crooned. G muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath, but stormed out the front door regardless.

The moment the door closed, her expression seemed to do an one-eighty.

"I honestly don't understand what Nana-san was _thinking_ ," she told him upfront, shaking her head in disgust. "Giotto, I don't doubt that you're a good man, especially if my brother speaks so highly of you, but you would be the last person on the face of this earth I would ask to raise a baby."

Giotto stared at her blankly. "Uh..."

"Well, as I've said before, you're in luck somebody who actually _understands_ what they're doing is here," Bianchi said. She glanced around the apartment again skeptically. "Do you have any pencils or pens? Something to write on?"

"I have a business card," Giotto offered, procuring a card from the inside pocket of his jacket. He'd started carrying them around after yet another potential client asked him for his number at work. Having his work number spammed with voicemails from guys asking him out on dates was a small price for a relatively stalker-free life. At least, he liked to think so.

(It was an added bonus that Alaude drove away any of the clients that tried to get _too_ physical with him).

Bianchi stared, unimpressed, at the proffered card. "Oh, for god's sake. Hold Hayato for me for a second," she said, depositing the disgruntled-looking baby into his arms. (What was with it with women putting babies involuntarily into his arms?) She took the business card, rummaging through her purse and digging out a fountain pen.

Hayato blew a raspberry. Giotto stared, helpless, as the youngest progeny of the Gokudera drooled on his shirt.

"We've already talked about infant formula, haven't we?" Bianchi said. She wrote down something on the business card, raising her thigh up and using it as a writing surface. "Also, he should still be wearing diapers." Giotto had been dreading the moment he would be reminded of that. "And you'll have to be in charge of bathing and clothing him, of course. And teaching him. That's very important, of course. Some experts even say that a child's early-on environment influences them for the rest of their lives."

"Does every family have to go through all this stress?" Giotto asked, groaning under his breath. A sudden thought occurred to him. "Did I cause all this stress for _my_ family?"

"I bet you were the most horrendous brat alive," Bianchi told him, "but Nana-san's too much of a Yamato Nadeshiko for it to make a difference."

"Even when Dad was never there," Giotto said, bitterly.

"You're too negative," Bianchi said brusquely, shifting her attention to the couch with Tsunayoshi on it. "Is that how you're going to raise your little brother—what was his name again?"

"Tsunayoshi," he said.

"Like the shogun?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He nodded. "Your parents have rather strange tastes in names. Wasn't your Japanese name Ieyasu or Iemitsu before you changed it?"

Giotto grimaced, stimulated further by Hayato's insistence at grabbing at his shirt. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then don't," Bianchi said, not quite paying full attention to him anymore. She peered over the couch, a confused frown appearing on her face as she glanced at Tsunayoshi. "Oh, he's awake."

"What?" Giotto asked. He hadn't heard any cries or sudden movements, like how they al/ways portrayed infants waking up in the movies. In fact, he hadn't heard any sound at all.

Another thought suddenly appeared. What if Tsunayoshi had inherited the— No, that was unlikely. Himself possessing it had already been a genetic anomaly; once could be passed off as a coincidence, but twice would be something else entirely.

"He's a very precocious child, isn't he?" Bianchi noted, reaching down and scooping up Tsunayoshi in one smooth motion. Tsunayoshi stared at her with large golden eyes the same shade as Giotto's, not a single sound leaving his mouth. "If only Hayato was so easy to manage."

Hayato gurgled in protest, waving his chubby hands and smacking Giotto in the face.

"Is that—normal?" Giotto asked hesitantly, glancing at Bianchi, who was cooing over Tsunayoshi's wide-eyed look. "Are babies supposed to act like this? Not talking, I mean?"

"Of course not," Bianchi said dismissively.

Giotto blanched.

"Oh, for god's sake, you're more gullible than a kid with a quarter trying to buy candy," Bianchi said, giving a sharp laugh at the paleness of his face. "Babies aren't robots, you dunderheaded fool. Some have better dispositions than others." She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "He'll grow out of it, unless he's mute, in which case I dare say Nana-san would have told you beforehand."

"Thanks," Giotto muttered, his answer half sarcastic.

"Here, put Hayato down," Bianchi ordered, setting Tsunayoshi gently on the sofa. "He can socialize with the mini-you. It'll do the both of them some good, if the mini-you's anything like you."

"His name's Tsunayoshi," Giotto said again, but complied. "And if he's anything like me, I doubt there'll be any socializing involved."

"That's too much of a mouthful," Bianchi told him, ignoring his second statement, and examined her nails in the light, as if they had somehow chipped in the past fifteen minutes she'd been in the apartment. "Have you ever thought of calling him by a nickname? Like Tsuna, or Yoshi, or something like that. A good, respectable name."

"My mother calls him Tsu-kun," Giotto offered, but his tone fell flat with distaste.

"Are you trying to get him traumatized forever?" Bianchi stared at him incredulously. "What is he, a dog? You of all people should know what having a bad name's like. He'll change his name legally to Johnny and run away to Tokyo when he's eighteen and end up a host for the rest of his miserable life."

"Tsuna, than," Giotto said, after a moment of deliberation. "I don't like the name Yoshi."

"You're the guardian here, not me," Bianchi said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I could raise another brat outside of my two brothers."

Giotto snorted, and turned his attention back to the couch where Tsuna and Hayato had been settled. What he saw surprised him—instead of the two children sitting sullenly by themselves, as he'd thought would happen, they were lying on top of each other, both fast asleep, Hayato's stubby arms wrapped around Tsuna's waist.

"As I thought," Bianchi said from behind him, and he didn't have to turn around to imagine the smug expression on her face. "Unsocialized, yeah right."

"You know what I meant," Giotto protested, but he was smiling too.

* * *

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notes

The kanji of the _yoshi_ (吉) in Tsunayoshi means good luck, although other kanjis with the same reading can mean virtuous, good, and respectable. Bianchi is making a pun here, albeit a very bad one.

Johnny & Associates is a famous Japanese talent agency founded by Johnny Kitagawa, known for producing a number of popular boy bands. Good-looking men in Japan are often referred to as "Johnnies" or "the Johnny type".


	3. II

**a.n.** i need to get a life help

with elena alive, i just imagine daemon being the rich, snobby socialite version of mukuro

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II

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"What are you doing here," Giotto demanded flatly, staring at the uninvited guests currently lounging on his couch. Somehow Daemon had managed to set up a full-course charcuterie board on the coffee table in the entirety of the five minutes when Giotto wasn't in the room, and was now demonstrating how to cut up a chunk of meat in the slowest and most unsettling way possible with what looked like a giant meat cleaver to the entranced mini-me and infant girl in his lap.

Wait a minute. How did he even get through the front door, anyways?

"Oh, Giotto~!" Daemon greeted when he saw Giotto, waving cheerfully, meat cleaver still in hand. It nearly hit the face of the girl as he moved, although neither child seemed fazed. "I heard from Bianchi-san that you were in need of some parenting tips, and being the kind, gracious person I am, I immediately came over to help. _Confit_?"

He set down the cleaver and instead stabbed the chunk of meat with a meat fork, offering it to Giotto.

Giotto heard _parenting tips_ and stared critically at Daemon, his demon children and then back at Tsuna. No. Absolutely not. Over his _dead body_ was he going to expose someone like _Daemon_ or his spawn to Tsuna.

"No thanks," Giotto said, both for the meat as well as the so-called 'parenting tips'.

"That's a pity. They're awfully good, if you bother to give them a try. Anyway, I brought my children along," Daemon continued obliviously, and ate the whole chunk of meat in one large bite. "I don't know if you still remember them, it's been quite a while since we've been able to have a nice chat like this without the presence of polite company. This is Mukuro Rokudo, or just Mukuro, he's three—" he patted the head of the mini-me, who somehow managed to absolutely terrify Giotto despite being _three years old_ , "—and this is Chrome Nagi Dokuro, but we call her Chrome for short, she's four months old. Should be around the same age as your little brother." The use of an additional Japanese name for both children and an English name for the girl surprised Giotto, although to be truthful Elena probably put her foot down during the naming of her children and demanded to get her way as well.

Still, Giotto wanted to smack Daemon for his naming sense—what kind of parent named his children _corpse_ and _skull_?! Admittedly, it was fitting for what could be considered children of the _devil_ —okay, so maybe Chrome wasn't _that_ creepy, and maybe a little cute, too (must have gotten that from Elena)—but still. And he thought _Tsu-kun_ was a bad name.

"So, uhh, is Elena coming over too?" Giotto tried to pry, because Elena was a saint and probably the only reason her children hadn't fully descended into evil like their father (well, Chrome, at least. The mini-me was a little too far gone for help). She'd actually been one of the top choices he considered for help in raising Tsuna, only he had a little reservation in judgement because this was the woman who also agreed to marry and birth the children of _Daemon Spade_.

"Oh, no," Daemon laughed, and Giotto's heart sank. "She's been awfully tired this week, you understand, since we've only attended two evening charity galas and the new nanny's already quit. So I'm giving her a vacation and taking care of the children for now. They're angels, I don't understand why the nannies always leave so abruptly like that."

He patted the mini-me's head, who giggled maniacally, and goosebumps formed all over Giotto's arms from the sudden chill. Yeah, he wasn't going to touch that subject with a ten-foot pole.

"Anyway, where's that cute little brother of yours I've heard so glowingly about?" Daemon said, glancing around the apartment. His nose wrinkled a little bit as he did, presumably out of pure judgement that Giotto didn't live in a 5-star penthouse in the wealthiest suburb in Tokyo, and okay, so maybe Giotto's carpet clashed with the general color scheme of the room a little bit—who was he kidding, it looked absolutely hideous.

"He's in the other room, sleeping," Giotto said. That was a truth, at least. He'd given Tsuna the baby formula, changed his diaper, and then the kid just fell asleep like that. Raising a kid seemed a lot easier than what Bianchi's long, detailed list implied.

Daemon dropped his fork. Luckily, it landed on his lap, but the action was so uncharacteristic of the man that Giotto immediately wondered if he was ill. Another reason to add on his ever-growing list as to why this man should never be allowed to be within a five-yard vicinity of Tsuna. "You shouldn't leave children unsupervised, Giotto," he said admonishingly, and his face was so smug that Giotto had to resist the urge to punch him in the face.

The mini-me—God, Giotto should stop calling him that, he had a name even if it was one of the worst ones he'd heard in his _life_ — _Mukuro_ stuck his tongue out as if to back up his father's words, giving Giotto a flat stare that seemed to convey a look of utter disdain.

 _You are twenty-one years old,_ Giotto thought to himself. _You are twenty-one years old, and you are not going to fight with a three year old_.

"I'll bring him out, then," Giotto said, and tried not to look at Mukuro as much as possible. Yeah, the kid really was turning out to be the same kind of person as his father.

"No need, I'll see him for myself," Daemon said dramatically, placing the fork back onto platter and securing Chrome in a hold as he stood up. Dutifully, Mukuro followed, the three of them disappearing into his bedroom before Giotto could even get a single odd word out.

Tell him, why was he even friends with Daemon, again?

Surprisingly, Tsuna was already awake by the time Giotto saw him next, lying in his makeshift crib (which was really just a mattress with cardboard taped around it so he wouldn't fall out—he'd ordered a real crib two days ago with the help of Bianchi, but his delivery had been delayed until tomorrow), and was now seemingly entertaining himself by staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I thought you said he was asleep," Daemon said, staring at Tsuna like he was an interesting specimen of some sort. Tsuna looked back at him with large golden irises, his eyes a little droopy from sleep, but didn't make any motion to move other than loll his head to the side. "Hmm, he looks just like you, Giotto. Both of you take after your mother, I should think?"

"Well, he was asleep before you came, but you might have woken him up. He doesn't really make any sound when he wakes up, but Bianchi said it was normal, so I don't really think much of it," Giotto explained, picking Tsuna up and placing him over his shoulder, and Daemon seemed to consider that information while nodding and making occasional _hmm_ and _mmm-hmm_ sounds. "And yeah, none of us really resemble our father, but I think that Tsuna's m—"

"Cuter," Mukuro interrupted, speaking for the first time. God, Giotto hated his voice already. He smiled angelically at Giotto, although Giotto could swear that inside those eyes there was nothing but the pits of Hell reflected within. "The baby's cuter. Uncle Giotto's _ugly_."

 _Why you little_ —, Giotto thought. _Calm down. Calm down. He's three years old._

"Mukuro, that's rude," Daemon chastised, although somehow when he said it it sounded more like he was praising Mukuro instead. "You should know that your Uncle Giotto is very self-conscious about these kinds of things."

Giotto choked.

" _Ara, ara,_ I'm teasing you," Daemon laughed, patting him on the back in a friendly manner, although Giotto kept an eye out in case the other man tried to stab him in the back (wouldn't be the first time). "Well, your brother _is_ very cute, _kufufufu_. Not as cute as our Chrome, of course, but passable." He stared dotingly at the infant in his arms, and the entire sight was so unsettlingly _weird_ Giotto had to turn away or else risk brain aneurysm. "Anyway, what do you call him?"

"Tsunayoshi," Giotto said, peeking through his fingers to make sure the coast was clear, "but that's too much of a mouthful, so I call him Tsuna."

"That's a _girl's_ name," Mukuro interrupted yet again in protest. (This kid really was his father's son through and through, wasn't he. They both had the effect of making people want to punch them. Where did Elena's genes go?) He tugged at Giotto's pants, looking almost shy, although Giotto knew better. "And he looks like one too. Are you sure he's not a _girl_?"

Giotto ignored him, in the face of his ever-diminishing sanity.

* * *

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* * *

"Is that really the first time I met Mukuro- _nii_?" Tsuna asks, five years later, mouth agape. "He called me a _girl_?"

Giotto nods, nursing the headache he gets whenever he remembers that meeting.

"But _he_ ' _s_ the one that looks like a girl," Tsuna says.

Giotto bursts out laughing, while Tsuna watches on, utterly confused.

* * *

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notes

The name _tsuna_ is frequently used a girl's name, although the kanji for the _tsuna_ (綱) in Tsunayoshi seems to be more frequently used in last names.


End file.
